Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Waking up, Multi found himself sprawled out on his temporary bed still dressed in his gear from the night before completely alone.

He’d nearly shit himself from the lack of heart beats present. Immediately jumping out of bed and assuming the worst- that the little infected he brought back could’ve changed and went on a rampage. As if he’d somehow killed everyone without waking him-

Yet there was not a single sign of any physical evidence in the house suggesting a struggle or even proof the infected had been there at all.

It was as if everyone just vanished. 

Which was simply absurd- because the Hussars never willingly got out of bed before sunrise- especially not on a vacation. 

So Multi knew something had to be wrong.

He’d hoped the night prior was all just a dream- but the faint lingering scent of that damned infected was plaguing the living room. By the time Multi calmed down enough to check his phone he found dozens of frantic texts in their group chat from hours prior proclaiming the little infected was nowhere to be found. 

The others claiming it allegedly escaped while they were all asleep and that they’d made the discovery around six in the morning- It was about nine now and the most recent text said they still had absolutely nothing to show.  Stating they lost the scent trail and were on their way back empty handed without even a speck of dust.

As if the strange little infected who’d completely altered his brain chemistry with just a glance and whiff of his blood- let alone that sinfully sweet taste- had never even existed at all. 

The news left him feeling strangely disappointed...but also… relieved.

Because he had a terrible feeling, if he met that infected again- he’d definitely have to kill him after the change. There was simply too much rage in those beautiful eyes.

He’d certainly be a force to be reckoned with if he learned how to harness his vampiric abilities and survived past the fledgling state. Assuming some other hunter didn’t find him first... Or he didn’t give up and walk into the sun…

…

Multi simply resigned himself to let it be and to just forget it. It was better not to think about it.

Not just because he didn’t want to be the one to extinguish that fire in the magnetic little man’s eyes- but because they’d be returning to Poland tomorrow night anyways and would never meet him again.  

So there was no point in wasting his energy and time thinking about some weird one-sided attraction encounter with an infected. 

Even if the little bastard did manage to make it back to Schlatt without being killed by another hunter or the coven leader himself- they’d be an entire ocean away by the time it took them to regain their strength and plan an actual retaliation attack on The Hussars. 

So Multi decided to relax and enjoy the silence…by immediately grabbing his phone and blaring some music.

Finally, he could wash away the grime, exhaustion, and… questionable… choices from the night prior. To relax for just a moment before the others came back and demanded they go sight seeing again like stupid tourists. 

The damphir made quick work of grabbing his toiletries and clothes for the day, unabashedly stripping as he made his way to their communal bathroom.

He had a date with the shower.

. . .

A single pale hand reached for the shower faucet knobs.  

Squeak- 

   Squeak- 

     Squeak- 

Multi turned them and slowly started to tug back the shower curtain as the pipes creaked and squealed filling with water…

Unbeknownst to him bleary mismatched eyes slowly opened, drowsy, and confused.  

SSSHHPSHHHHHH!  The shower head sprayed to life with freezing cold water pelting down from above.

Quickly those same bleary dual colored eyes widened in an instant. Their owner shrieked and struggled to collect his bearings from the cold waters sudden and unexpected assault on his senses.

“WATAFAK-!? WAAAHHH-!!! ” The infected human screamed in alarm, slipping in the tub and struggling to get away from the cold stream of water in his cuffs. He nearly climbed over the shower edge and tried to roll onto the floor only to freeze. Sitting on the ledge of the tub half caught in the stream of cold water he stared up at the damphir in mirrored horror.

“OH KURWA-!?” The damphir recoiled in an instant accidentally dragging the shower curtain- and the whole fucking shower rod- down with a clattering thud as he jumped back in surprise.

It would seem the supposedly MISSING infected was still in the house the entire time. Go figure.

The man scrambled back away from the damphir now pressed into the corner of the shower wall furthest from him. Visibly trembling and breathing hard- whether from fear- or the cold stream of water- or maybe even his body undergoing the change- Multi was unsure. But his heart still certainly worked as it pounded against his ears and drowned out the shower's hiss. Multi refocused his senses on the music- There was no time to be having no monstrous thoughts right now.

No instead he was focused on the way the man's clothing and hair were all soaked- now clinging to his small form and making the man look like an alluring albeit-sad- little wet cat. 

Though his eyes were anything but sad- still wild and fiery glaring at him in distrust.

Mutli couldn’t believe his luck.

Laughing manically he dragged a hand through his hair and tugged at his dreads, he slowly started to falter and leaned against the bathroom sink with a quiet groan covering his face.

“Oh my god…They’re fucking idiots!” 

. . .

A soft thud came from their temporary living room.

Inaudible to an average humans’ ears- Minus maybe a focused Multi’s, but he was dead asleep. 

So there was really only one person with hearing strong enough to catch it. Curled up in bed- Nexe’s-canine ears twitched atop his head. Because he could unfortunately never turn off his enhanced hearing. Ever. Even in his fully human form. 

Oh the joys of being a werewolf-dog hybrid. 

Now, was it probably the little infected vampire ticking time bomb in the living room?

Yes, that he was almost entirely certain of.

But did he really want to get up yet…? 

No. Not really. 

Instead, Nexe buried his head back into the oh so familiar scent of his clingy bedmate's long messy copper and brown curls. Almost immediately his senses were hit with the same overpowering and distinctly artificial sweet strawberry scent he’d been exposed to for over a decade now. 

A scent that this new mystery man Multi kidnapped seemed to share some suspiciously similar traits with that Nexe couldn’t quite connect the dots on just yet...But he’d figure it out eventually.  

But for now it was still dark out- so he’d sleep and enjoy the peace and quiet a little longer… Especially since his bedmate looked so comfortable, quietly snoring and drooling on his tank top. 

The weredog snickered and buried his head further into the sleepy pandas' locks, finding a fluffy ear to nip at-because he was allowed to be annoying sometimes too. The shorter man grumbled out something that sounded suspiciously like a warning  “nexeeeee…!” into his chest shuffling lower to try and avoid the taller man's reach while his ears reflexively twitched. 

…The other man's scent certainly wasn’t as sweet as Ewroon's. 

Not to say it was bad per say- but it was almost entirely different.

The infected smelled like apples and cinnamon- sweet- yes, but not nearly as sweet as Ewroon...Though maybe that could’ve been a personal preference thing… How should Nexe know?

He wasn’t the mad scientist of this operation. Though maybe he should bring the observation up to Multi later. 

Because no matter what- it was equally as overwhelming and strong as Ewroon's. Which meant something was... off, because no natural creature they’d met in years smelled like this, nor could it have been a perfume with how potent and consistent it was over the other's body.  

He’d actually felt sick by the time they got home. Having developed a headache just from his and Ewroon's scents mixing together in the back of the car on the way back to the Air B&B-even with the windows cracked. 

It was like two fruity candles mixing and fighting for dominance over the air.

There was a faint set of creaks down the hall.  Meaning, he was up and moving then…Fuck.

Nexe opened his eyes with a long and resigned sigh.

“Ewroon…” He whispered, lightly jostling the drooling little leach hooked around him. 

“Mmmnnnn…!” The rotten panda only grumbled shifting to try and bury his head further into Nexe’s chest, somehow wrapping his arms tighter around his waist, his claws digging themselves into Nexe’s back, a wordless threat.

Though it was nothing Nexe hadn’t already experienced before-afterall there were dozens of scars from the Pandas nails decorating his back.

“Ewroon-” Urgency leaked into his whisper as the creaks grew silent. Distantly he could hear the quiet creak and click of something- a door undoubtedly. Fuck.

They really should’ve just locked him in a damn closet... 

“Nexeeeee…Stop fuckin’ with me…Liege Wie!” The Panda hissed in irritation, slinging a leg over Nexe’s when the canine started to try and pull away. 

“Ewroon…! Get off…!” The whiny man only stubbornly slung the rest of himself over the younger like a weighted blanket squirming and fighting against the weredogs prodding and gentle shoving. 

“But the pillows are all hard as rocks and…and-and you're so much comfier-!” He whined trying to bury his claws into Nexe’s tank top.

Fed up with wasting any more time- Nexe let out a low warning growl deep within his throat- still the chubby man refused to budge, stubborn as ever. So the were-dog sat up with ease and startled the panda, who half squealed- half squeaked right in his ear wrapping his arms around the taller's neck- now sat in his lap staring up at him with confused still glazed eyes...

Eyes that turned treacherous staring up at him like a kicked puppy as if he hadn’t just been a little shit.

Still Ewroon was committed, his fluffy ears pressed flat against his messy locks. Without warning he jerked himself off the weredog’s lap with a dejected huff and laid back down, dramatically turning his back to the weredog and not even bothering to cover himself back up with the blanket. 

Nexe tried to ignore him and started to shuffle towards the edge of their bed-

“…I’m sorry Nexe… I forgot you hate me and think I’m disgusting…” He whispered into the darkness layering on the melodrama, per usual, Nexe sighed and looked back to see the other man curled in a ball with his tail wrapped around and shielding himself with a dramatic and pitiful little sigh. 

Nexe growled and dropped his head gritting his teeth. Damn his weak little heart that clenched with unwarranted guilt. This was probably the twentieth time already this week the damn little manipulator had pulled a move like this on him- and yet he still gave in every time. 

He reached over to Ewroon’s head, carefully petting and brushing through his hair, and scratching at his scalp and ears, watching the red panda turn to shoot him an unimpressed glare over his shoulder- though he didn’t make any moves to stop him and even started purring- so he couldn't have been too upset despite the look on his face. 

Meaning Nexe might not totally be in the dog house later.

But a distant and loud enough noise down the hall jolts them both back to reality as they glance from the door to each other with wide eyes. 

“Oh Kurva…!” The panda is suddenly fully awake, reaching over Nexe and grabbing a blade from his bag, rolling off the bed and onto the floor beside him trying to pull the wolf up with some struggle.

“Yeah…The mystery man’s awake.” He sighs, nudging the pandas tugging hands away to pull a silver dagger from his own personal travel bag and stand- It was just a precaution. 

Though he was pretty confident he could disarm the little infected with his teeth if he really needed to. 

Although they would certainly have to ditch the card they registered this place under for damage costs if that were the case. But Graf and Multi had both been adamant that they try not to destroy this place- and Nexe was going to try his damnedest not to.

They reached the door and set out into the hall finding the open space from the first glance- empty. 

 The little bastard was somewhere hiding or had escaped- yet instead of being worried- all Nexe could think was how ridiculous this whole situation really was. 

I mean It was truly a wonder sometimes that Multi and Ewroon weren’t actually related. 

What with their constant dramatics and theatrical drama bullshit they often found themselves in. But especially this time- I mean for fucks sake Multi’s pushing thirty at this point. Why the hell couldn’t he have just talked it out with the guy like a normal person, and not you know… fucking kidnaped him…?  

Nexe would never know.

Regardless, Multi is going to owe him later, big time.

. . .

Now when Quackity woke, he was incredibly disappointed. For a number of reasons. 

First and foremost- he was still alive. Which was a total fucking bummer.

Second, he was just left on a random ass couch in someone's living room! Not even guarded or blindfolded… Just dropped there like a sack of potatoes, an after thought. And to add insult to injury- he was hardly even restrained!- aside from the little silver cuffs on his wrists and ankles which was honestly even MORE insulting because-  

Third, he was allegedly infected. AKA, a ticking time bomb of vampiric strength and power. Therefore, whoever kidnaped him was either a total dumbass, or knew about him. 

Which honestly…he wasn’t even quite sure yet which of those options would be better or worse for him in the long run. 

Oh and the fourth reason in case you’re wondering. 

Arguably the worst- at least according to his pathetic heart and even stupider brain- Schlatt got away- and not only got away- but left him behind. 

He’d never left Quackity behind and they’d been together for nearly… 7 years now.

Even when they’d almost died- he always came to his rescue or stayed by his side. They were partners. 

In all senses of the word.

God… To think Quackity had wanted nothing more than to get away from him and his control for so long...Yet when he finally had the fucking chance- he was too weak and fucked it up. He couldn’t pull the trigger.

But that damned sick and masochistic part of him- the hopeless romantic- the dreamer- he tried to bury still loved that monster.  

But the logical side knew better- Schlatt needed to die- and not just because that monster couldn’t love him back… not anymore.

Schlatt had changed well beyond vampirism. It’d taken too long for him to fully realize- to stop ignoring- how corrupt Schlatt had become. But Quackity understood now that even beyond his worthless feelings- it would be better for the entire world had he just died last night. If they both had died.

And yet they both were somehow still alive. All because Quackity had intervened and ruined everything because he didn’t want that fucking hunter to be the one to do it- He needed to be the one to kill him. 

And now Schlatt was probably holed up somewhere around the city laying low in a shitty motel like they used to…

… 

He’d come back for Quackity.

Surely.

...Or at the very least his blood. For the business. He needed him for that. Maybe he could handle the politics on his own- but he needed his blood! 

HE WAS STILL USEFUL-

But how…? Why…? What did Schlatt have to gain by leaving him with hunters? Nothing.

He’d just really left him!?

Sure, Quackity had tried to sneak away once…But even then Schlatt tracked him down-and took him back because he was “running low” on his funds and the blood bags- the actual ones. Their “subscription” service. And while they certainly had enough money from all the bribes and “deals” to live comfortably- Schlatt would undoubtedly blow through it all with his hedonistic lifestyle in no time. 

So he’d have to come back…  

I mean…why would he get rid of him now when he was so close to helping achieve his stupid vampire aristocracy anyways? He had the human politicians eating out of his palms for fucks sake. 

It just didn’t make sense- the vampire never just gave up. Even then- if he were truly mad for what Quackity had done last night- Wasn’t he even worth a mercy kill after all they’d been through together!?

No. Of course not, because Schlatt was a fucking asshole. He knew that.

And yet being left behind still stung more than the damned glass shards that tore up his hands.

… 

He wound up just laying on the couch for quite some time listening to the room's ambient noise and enjoying the darkness's momentary peace, pretending he was one with nothingness...just existing. 

Though the occasional lights and noise from a car passing by would ruin his immersion, peaking through the semi-opaque curtains. But it was ultimately the repetitive sound of the clock he’d noticed ticking somewhere behind him that started to grate on his nerves enough to make him finally sit up and abandon any fear he had of alerting his captors trying to find the damn thing and devise a way to shut it up if he could get out of his shackles…

Except sitting up, Quackity could now turn his head and look around a bit more…So Quackity did exactly that while getting lost in his head, inspecting his new prison(?)

Instead of a cell like he would’ve assumed he’d be in if he woke up- he was in the middle of an open floorspace with a dining room and kitchen behind the couch he laid on. Along with two suspicious little hallways on either side of the open room.

He’d been captured…captured by hunters who had no sense of style.

To be fair though…Schlatt also had really bad taste- but this place was just so… greighe millennial minimalist.

I mean sure it was super nice and modest-clean- incomparable to some of the shady shittholes he and Schlatt frequented back in their early days when they had nothing but each other. 

Nor was it as cold and lifeless as the Federations holding cells he’d been raised in, or obnoxiously lavish and questionably stylized as some of Schlatt's apartments they’d jumped between over the years. 

This new prison was just a nice plain and simple little home. 

It was normal…it was strange. 

Quackity didn’t belong in a place like this, he never would.

Mismatched eyes fell back to his bandaged hands, there left untouched amongst his disgusting and unwrapped fingers still caked in crusty dry blood- was his ring.

An obnoxious and flashy emerald cut gem, a red garnet encased in a chunky bronze band- Schlatt’s way of claiming him. 

His “wedding” ring…It meant so much back at the start of their journey…Back when things were still somewhat ethical- Well as ethical as Quackity selling himself-his blood- for money, was. 

Maybe if they hadn’t tried to skip ahead of this part- the simplicity and honesty of building a home- hadn’t used the stupid crypto schemes, questionable political deals, and the blood “subscriptions” to get Schlatt ahead in his career… 

If they hadn’t been so ambitious... maybe they could’ve been normal and had something like this…

The man's lips curled at the edges as he sat on the couch quietly fiddling with his ring, he let out an amused little puff of air finally breaking the silence of the room for the first time.

Who was he kidding? 

No matter what he could’ve done differently, things were never going to be easy for them. Even if they had gone down another path in life, things would’ve still ended up like this- or maybe even worse. 

Because he wasn’t supposed to exist beyond the Federation- escaping with Schlatt had been a mistake and an accident. 

This world wasn’t meant for him. He was an asset and nothing more.

Born and destined to die at the hands of the federation from birth once he outlived his usefulness. If you could even call his tragedy of a life useful.

And even if Schlatt did come back for him… Wouldn't they just be dancing around each other in the same hollow imitation of their once passionate and beautiful love-yet again? Or maybe even worse now- now that he really did it- and tried to kill him. 

There was no coming back from this. All the pain…the love…the sacrifices for what…? 

He wasn’t even sure anymore. 

All he knew is he was sick and tired of being trapped and at another's mercy- 

sick of waiting-

 sick of hiding- 

sick of dreaming- 

For hope. For something- anything to save him.

For anyone who would really take the time to understand him and care for him the way he did for them-

Because no one ever will- because that's not the life he's meant to have.

…

Time continued to pass him by and the sun started to rise...

He wished now more than ever that he could just burn. To die by its beautiful and pure warmth would be a blessing.  

But instead, his dual colored eyes just stared ahead blankly at the front door. It’d been within his sights this entire time, though it felt more like a taunt than anything. Given the four sets of bloody combat boots guarding it. 

Only one pair he actually recognized- the Terminator wannabes- alongside three others, all sat neatly in a line beside the door. 

A wordless threat and reminder, he wouldn't get far even without the cuffs around his ankles.

Not that was much of a deterrent anyways, Quackity wasn’t stupid. He knew even if he did try to run or hide- he wouldn’t get far. 

Someone would find him- take him. The Federation, Schlatt, hunters…Someone always did. 

He was always just some pawn in an elaborate game, even when he thought he was calling the shots, he’d never actually had any real control. 

But…

No one had come to check on him yet…

And it was getting pretty boring just sitting here waiting for death… 

Fuck it. 

He’s had to pee for a while now anyways. 

… 

He tried to subtly shimmy off the couch- only to nearly stumble over the coffee table he misjudged being closer than it was- tripping with the faintest- thump -only to catch himself at the last moment and using the couch to hold himself up. Quackity began to carefully shuffle around, further inspecting his new prison.

The small dining area had a nice bland table and chairs set, along with a partially open kitchen and a nice little knife block just sat out on the countertop. Primitive and maybe predictable, but useful nonetheless. Quackity opted for a simple paring knife; anything bigger would’ve been too obvious if it were gone- assuming this wasn’t already some kind of test with the tiniest cameras he’d never seen. 

The man paused and tentatively glanced between the two intersecting hallways of the main room, one side, the longer of the two split hallways, had three doors. All shut and likely full of hunters who’d soon wake and do god knows what to him... Meanwhile the other much shorter hallway only had two, one of which was left wide open and dark... Bingo. 

… 

He did his business quickly and quietly in the dark. Hadn’t even bothered to lock the door or flush- sue him, he wasn’t about to die over a damn toilet- BUT he did wash his hands because he wasn’t a total sicko. 

However when he was about to go and open the door to return to the couch- he heard the distant, 

…creeeeeeeeeeeeeaaak…

Another door somewhere down the hall, followed of course by some quick footsteps shuffling around the living room and kitchen… Shit.

Against his better judgment- Quackity crouched down and struggled to climb into the tub with his cuffed limbs. It definitely wasn’t his best decision in hindsight- he’d be dead if anyone actually caught him-but…it’d be an easy cleanup for whoever found him! And honestly since he had no better options at the moment and it seemed to work well enough.

Especially since whomever came in to likely check for him in the bathroom- didn’t even bother to look behind the curtain!?

They just opened the door, turned on the light and peaked in, then left! 

He heard people speaking in hushed whispers- though they seemed to struggle with the concept as Quacktity could hear the clear alarm in their voices- language barrier be damned. 

But then he almost shit himself when the highpitched fellow between the two came in and turned on the light- shutting the door ultimately to also take a piss.

All the while Quackity was absolutely mortified. Torn between struggling to not breathe too loud or laugh at the absurdity- because he was fucked up in the head and couldn’t handle his emotions like a normal person- panicking the entire time and fully convinced his heart thundering in his chest would somehow give him away. 

He gripped his little knife in one hand so tightly his knuckles had turned white- fully prepared to strike if need be. But thankfully the man just finished, washed his hands, and left with the door wide open. 

Still…he slumped in relief and felt his body finally relax. 

Maybe these guys really were dumb... But they’d have to use the bathroom again eventually and his luck would only get him so far.

…

Time passed again, but the idiots had been talking for sooooooo looooong… Quackity could hardly keep his eyes open. Another guy had even woken up and joined in their frantic yapping. 

It was almost like they knew he was stuck in there and were just trying to wait him out and make him surrender…But he refused to give up that easily. They’d wasted and extended his time against his will, so now he’d waste theirs.

Afterall, Quackity could handle a few more hours. 

Probably. 

Besides…the sterile white tile of the walls…the blank plastic shower curtain, and tub basin were all so…familiar. If he squinted…it was almost like…like he was in his old cell…it was strangely… comforting… enticing… simpler.   

But no!

He had to stay awake! In case they snuck up on him… 

But it was so boring listening to them yap…

Maybe if he could’ve followed along he would’ve had more incentive to stay awake and pay attention… but no. The language they were speaking sure as hell wasn’t Spanish or English adjacent even if there were a few handful of similar sounding words- he’s almost certain they had to have some other meaning… 

But then again…their voices were all actually kind of nice background noise as he brain started to go fuzzy. He absentmindedly pondered which could’ve belonged to the man who stole him last night- but before he even could give it further thought… he’d fallen back asleep, right in the tub.

… 

What a total mistake. 

Because now Quackity was cold, wet, and fully exposed. Isn’t that just wonderful?

The flimsy shower curtain- his momentary protector from this stupid nightmare- now lay on the ground in a heap forcing him face-to-face with the nearly nude Terminator wannabe in nothing but his boxers. 

Because it just had to be him. 

As if he hadn’t already caught Quackity at his lowest the night prior- gawking at him like a damned zoo animal. Something he unfortunately was all too familiar with.  

He clutched his little parring knife between his cuffed fists, hiding the blade and pressing himself further back onto the shower wall, trying his hardest not to slip with the damn cuffs around his legs in the wet tub.

“...Have you seriously been here this whole time?” The man finally breathed after a moment leaning against the bathroom sink, though Quackity refused to speak. 

After a long moment of silence the man let out a long and exhausted sigh. His low voice was shockingly softer than Quackity remembered from the night before, speaking slowly and carefully, with a thick and heavy accent.

Quackity opted to keep his head low and peaked through his bangs at the other man to hide his face, keeping the hunter's body within his line of sight. 

This guy had to still be a relatively new hunter- because there was not a single scar or imperfection on his blinding alabaster skin. 

…But that couldn’t be? 

Because Quackity swears he saw that guy get shot last night. Yet there was nothing- not even a scratch- left on his shoulder... 

Another odd thing- this guy was shockingly scrawny. 

Without all his layers and hunter gear- he was pretty small. Sure he had broad shoulders and the frame of someone who could be bigger- stronger- but his arms lacked any real definition and were alarmingly thin, likewise his ribs were more pronounced than any muscle on his chest- he was just skin and bones...and looked kind of ill.

And to top it off… he was actually kinda short. I mean sure he was taller than Quackity- but that wasn’t an achievement by any means. And even then, he was only a few inches or so taller without those apparent platform combat boots left at the door, which he could now see were clearly compensating for something.  

But he did have at least something going for himself, without those stupid glasses- he had some really pretty bright blue eyes... Minus of course the sheer intensity they held staring into his soul while he stood there frozen in the stream of cold water still sizing him up. 

Until they looked away that is. 

Because the man unabashedly reached down without an ounce of concern, and casually turned down the volume of his music blaring from his phone- not off. Just down- Which how fucking rude could you be?- And not only that- he began to type something…!?  What a dick. 

Still Quackity couldn’t help himself, letting out a quiet snort and shaking his head and sliding down the shower wall. The chaos of everything was really starting to hit him…

They made wordless eye contact for a few more moments, nothing but the sounds of the bathroom vent, freezing cold water still pelting against him and the tub, Oh and of course, this guy's stupid sound cloud rap music filling the space. 

“Listen…I’m sure you’re very….very confused right now…but please stay calm…! We don’t intend to harm unless you give us reason to…!” Quackity bit back a snicker and instead rechanneled the noise into a couple feigned sniffles instead. 

“W-What are you going to do to me sir…?” He shrunk in on himself and whimpered- as humiliating and demeaning as it was to his pride- Quackity wasn’t stupid. 

He’s well aware of how people saw him- how they misjudged him immediately based on his appearance and smaller frame. But what they never knew until he struck- is how Quackity is a schemer- an opportunist- and how much he can endure when need be.

He watched the man visibly freeze at the sound, turning to give him a look of confusion and… disappointment…? How odd. 

Still he tightened his grip around his little knife, careful not to let the stiffness show anywhere else on his body, prepared to fight if need be, but he still amped up his act- trembling- though admittedly it was more from the fucking freezing water pelting him than any real fear at this point. 

Sure he was ready to die at any point now- but he’d at least like to either know who these men were and whether or not they’d be finishing the job with Schlatt- or go out on his own terms and finish the job if these guys were just some other freaks trying to use him like a pawn.  

Unsurprisingly, the man dared to take a cautious step forward, raising his hands up, like he was approaching a cornered wild animal. Good.

“...You’ve been infected…you know what that means yes…?” 

A life lesson he learned early on in the world was to play dumb. People always let their guards down if they thought you were pathetic. So he amped his performance up, crying and sniffling some more.

“N-No? What’s going to happen to me…!?” The man stood frozen looking absolutely lost at his reaction- it was honestly hard not to laugh at the visible cogs turning in his head as he buffered and tried to figure out how to navigate the situation. 

And at that moment- Quackity momentarily decided he wanted to live. For just a bit longer. 

Because If he was going to die today- he’d at least have a little more fun fucking with this guy before he went, with whatever time he had left.

“Uhm- Shit… P-Please calm down!? You will be fine-! Mostly-? Eh… maybe just a bit dead-!”

“DEAD-!?” He squawked and watched the man flinch and panic, stuttering for words to say slipping back into his native language- the same others earlier had been speaking out in the living room. 

“-DIFFERENT-Different meaning! Ugh…this is such horrible timing…We just want to talk! You are-er-were Schlatt’s personal blood bag, yes, you're aware he’s a vampire…?” 

“Yes…yes I am…Please don’t hurt me sir…! I’m sorry for whatever he did…!” He trembled and shrank as the man slowly continued to approach with an uncomfortable look on his face. 

Good. 

Just a little closer… 

“Let me…let me help you out and I can put on clothes….then we can talk properly…? Yes…?” 

“Okay…” He sniffed, coyly batting his lashes and delighting in the others' disgruntled expression. 

“I’m going to touch you now and help you out of the shower…Ok?”  Quackity jerked his head down, biting back a snide comment and snicker… He took a deep breath for a moment and nodded, schooling his expression and looking up with wide innocent eyes- well as innocent as he could look with his nasty scar- sniffling as the man reached to grab his arms for stability. 

As nice as this guy may have been for not immediately killing him on sight- Quackity knew damn well this was all just some bullshit for him to let down his guard to try and use him later on. So when the man gently grabbed onto him just under his shoulders- just as gently as he’d tried to handle him the night before- his brian uselessly supplied- Quackity naturally took his chance. 

Looking right into his pretty blue eyes he gave the man a big smile, showing off his teeth. All razor sharp and unnatural as ever- hidden behind unassuming little smiles until it was time to strike.   

Instantly the other's already struggling composure cracked as he blinked a few times as if in disbelief, visible surprise that shifted into...interest?

Quackity ignored his underwhelming reaction and used the moment to rearrange the hidden blade between his fists.

channeling all his strength he lurched himself forwards- shanking the little kitchen knife into the hunter's kidney. Turning it ever so slowly and the man froze and winced.

…However instead of collapsing…The man just tensed and let out a few quiet grunts but still met Quackity's dual eyed stare gritting his teeth together with a slowly growing grin. Quackity's own manic smile slowly crumbled and shifted into a scowl as each second passed. 

The man made no moves of collapsing...Fuck. 

Dumbstruck Quackity pulled back ever so slightly and looked down to find the knife still buried in the man, afraid he’d somehow missed- but no- it was in fact buried in the taller's stomach. He looked back up and watched the man who stared back at him blankly, unimpressed with his smile now gone. Though his brows started to pinch together and his eyes narrowed as the grasp on his arms only tightened and his lips curled into a smirk.

Quackity gasped and made another quick thrust with his little knife, shallowly stabbing in further-depper- watching the man wince and a grunt but still remaining standing and unfazed- bored even with grit teeth he huffed out a pained laugh.

“You’ll have to try a bit harder than that...” He spoke in a low tone that made Quackity’s blood absolutely boil for all the wrong reasons… He tried to shove the knife in some more to no real avail before ditching it in his stomach and trying to jerk himself away to no use- already trapped in the scrawny man's surprisingly strong and cold iron grasp. 

In an instant the man surged forwards and pushed Quackity back, stepping into the tub and the freezing spray of water, now taking the brunt of it and pressing Quackity against the shower wall flushed chest to chest. 

He slowly drug Quackity's cuffed arms up and brought them together from the limited movement the cuffs provided- until he was able to hold them both above his head with a single hand using his slight height advantage. This wasn’t good.

Quackity strained and struggled against the man's uncomfortable hold for a moment before he slowly stopped and started catching the intense crystal blue eyes that were frozen with an expectant gaze watching him. 

“Are you done yet…?”

Quackity just glared at the man and glanced at his knife still lodged in the others side. The man rolled his eyes and pulled it out with his other free hand with a hiss, bringing it up to their eyeline- 

His little knife was covered in a strange dark green liquid…this man's… blood…? 

Fuck. 

“Fuck.” He breathed and shivered watching the man slowly smirk and bring the knife closer to Quackity's face- he closed his eyes and pressed his head against the wall closing his eyes and presenting his neck with a smile waiting for pain- or death- or anything- only it didn’t come.

Slowly peaking his eyes open he found the man- or maybe a creature? Staring at him with an amused and expectant little smirk. Quackity flushed and pouted looking between the man and the blade raising a brow.

Instead he gestured the knife towards him casually, like they weren’t in a hostage position at the moment. 

“Do you want a taste little fledgling?” He cooed snarkily bringing the blade closer to his lips while Quackity scowled and weakly squirmed half heartedly trying to wiggle free despite knowing it was useless- trying to keep his face away from the strange blood. 

The man definitely wasn’t human.

And this would almost certainly not bode well for him. 

Quackity winced as the man pouted before dramatically bringing the knife to his own mouth and looked as though he were about to lick it- before he paused and snickered at Quackity’s probably horrified- definitely horrified- and forzen face dropping the knife outside of the tub with a tired sigh.

“Yeah, I don’t taste very good. What a shame for you… Now little firecracker, can we do this the civil way and just fucking talk…? maybe-yes-?”  

“No.” He glared and the man rolled his eyes now visibly annoyed and cursing in another language- 

“Oh. my. GOD-” He snarled and Quackity used all his strength to try and push and shove at the man-

“MULTI!?”  The bathroom door slammed open and the other three hunters piled into the room- freezing in shock at the sight of the bathroom in total disarray.

“FUCK-” The Damphir startled- between the intrusion and the weak shove rendering him unbalanced- he released his grip on he shorter man and slipped back in the tub- only to stumble backwards over the edge and onto the floor with a groan.

Meanwhile Quackity, unprepared for the hunter to suddenly release his weight, stumbled and went limp- sliding down the shower wall and slipping in a desperate struggle to catch himself against the slick tub- to no use. 

He hit the tub face first with a thud and everything went black.

… 

“-Why should we spend our ENTIRE -vacation- WORKING!? I mean It’s DAYTIME for fucks sake, not like he can just go out and wander the streets killing people you know-!” Ewroon paced in frustration flailing his arms around. Multi, fresh from the shower simply scoffed from his spot on the couch's armrest.

“Stop being such a whiny little bitch about this. We have an infected in case you forgot about the man literally tied to a chair in our dining room!? We can’t just leave him behind and go galavanting like a bunch of stupid tourists- what if he turns and tries to escape again? We’d lose our leverage over Schlatt.” 

“Sure… that’s why you don’t want to leave him.” Graf hummed from his own spot on the couch absentmindedly flipping through channels on the TV.

“Graf, don't you fucking start that shit right now!-I told you he was trying to kill me- no weird shit happened I just- I felt bad for him and was trying to help-” 

“Uh guys…?” Nexe tried to interject from the dining room table, sitting beside the bound infected who was slumped against a chair. 

Who he swears just twitched- His eyes widened and he yelped as the small body beside him let out a quiet moan of pain. Nexe’s ears pressed against his head as he watched the shorter man's slumped head slowly begin to rise. He anxiously followed the movement of the others hands trying to subtly and weakly against his restraints.  

Nexe really hoped he hadn’t changed while unconscious- He looked to the others in the livingroom, but they were all still more focused on verbally harassing each other as usual.

“-Mmhhm. You feeling bad for someone else and helping with nothing to gain? Right.” Graf's teasing tone only served to irritate the damphir more as he went rigid and glared at the human then shifting it to the still rapidly pacing Panda who’s tail kept hitting Multi each time he passed.

“Ewroon-” Nexe tried but it was no use as the other ranted over him with his stupid big mouth. 

The infected man continued to thrash around and struggle quietly. 

“-Well who said we have to leave him here while we go out!? If today's gonna be his last day of truly living- well you know- being able to actually walk outside and enjoy the sun without bursting into flames- why not let him enjoy it!? I wouldn't want to waste my last day of life stuck in a house all day-!” 

“Ah yes…Dragging an infected around NYC sightseeing in broad daylight? Surely nothing could go wrong there…” 

“Your snark isn’t helping ANYONE Graf-!” Ewroon huffed, finally stopping his pacing. Standing behind the couch he reaches around Multi and steals a throw pillow, smacking Graf in the back of the head and causing his glasses to go flying. 

Meanwhile Nexe is still frozen in panic watching the bound man recoil and wince at Ewroon's frequency. He seemed to realize his struggle was futile, going limp and making subtle glances up at the group arguing in the living room. That is until those eyes caught onto Nexe’s own nervously gaze watching him-chewing on his lip in the seat beside him. He narrowed his eyes with a venomous glare but still said nothing.

“Guys-” So he tried but the result was the same. 

“NO-” Multi took the pillow and smacked the panda himself. “He’s right! Are you seriously that selfish? Because in case it hasn’t clicked in that pea sized brain of yours what you’re suggesting right now- is that we drag a dying man around the most populated city in America and put hundreds of people at risk if he turns? Oh yeah, and if he turns, he’ll immediately burn to death and we lose the only leverage we have but also he dies a horribly painful death. HA-HA YES! THATS A GREAT FUCKING IDEA, SO FUN!” The damphir clapped obnoxiously in the pandas face.

Nexe watched the little bastard sitting beside him trying to subtly tip himself, shifting his weight to unbalance the chair. Though with all the arguing the sounds were all blocked by the others bickering which was increasing to a volume that was starting to seriously hurt his own ears. 

He tugged at his ears looming over the bound man unsure what to do as he reached to grab the man's shoulders to steady him-

But the little man snarled and dove his head straight to his arm- 

“Fuck!” Nexe yelped as the man's razor sharp teeth latched around his boney wrist for the briefest moment chomping down, he grunted and instinctively smacked the other man away with his other hand, watching the way his head whipped to the side as he was thrown back against the chair with a quiet cry of pain. 

Yet the other Hussars still were in their own world. 

The combination of sharp stinging pain and indignation started to bubble in his chest. He tried to take a deep breath- to calm down- but of course… 

“YOU GUYS ALWAYS GANG UP ON ME!” The Ewroon cried, the shrill and grating sound echoing and amplifying from the sparsely decorated walls, and making the were-dog finally lose his shit.

“GUYS!” He snarled, gripping the back of the leather couch and struggling now to keep his claws from digging into the leather.

The three hussars all simultaneously jumped back in shock at the were-dogs outburst. Nexe, equal parts tired and frustrated, just sighed, running his non-injured hand down his face and lamely jestering to their captive with his now bloody arm, “He’s awake…” 

The infected sat there quiet and unmoving in the dimly lit dining room. He observed them with challenging mismatched eyes through messy bangs still damp and clinging to his face from the tussle in the shower. 

A sneer pulled at his blood smeared lips revealing rows of razor sharp teeth…Fuck. 

Multi's throat bobbed as an inexplicable heat wave wreaked through his body-Time seemed to slow as he gripped onto the edge of the couch for dear life. He glanced up once more to meet those intense eyes that glared into his soul. 

How many times would he be left gaping like a fool over this man’s strange beauty? Why was he so intoxicating? Even now his scent was so enticing-so strong despite the lack of fresh blood? Not to mention his serum still fresh and coursing through his veins… Yet he still wanted another taste- No.

No one had ever had him acting so…so foolish… He hated this. So he glanced away. 

But that only lasted for a moment. 

As for some strange reason he couldn’t quite explain- for the thousandth time in the last 24 hours- he inexplicably was drawn by some primal and long repressed part of his brain to look at him.

Which was a total mistake as he instantly latched onto the first sight of the movement he saw from the other man. That just so happened to be a little pink tongue sneaking out from those plump red lips, flashing his  sharp teeth- to swipe a taste of the fresh blood… 

Suddenly his throat was parched. 

Multi lost his grip on the couch and nearly tipped off the edge, regaining his composure at the last second he whipped himself around and sat on the couch like a normal person- avoiding the smaller man's gaze and forcing himself to look away. 

He kept his eyes locked on the covered window and brought a hand up to cover his nose, quietly struggling to regain control of his breathing, clutching onto the edge of the couch for dear life as he listened to the others - struggling to ground himself and calm his heart- but of course everyone else was silent for once when he needed them.

“Daaaaaaaayyyyyyuuuuum-” Ewroon of course was the first to speak up.

“Yeah. Multi…I think I understand now why he’s so special to you...” The Damphir had enough control to shoot the bispeckled man a venomous glare, though it was lost on the taller man sat beside him- as he was half turned around- intently staring at the infected in the chair behind Multi-

tempting him to turn around yet again…

NO. Eyes on the window. FOCUS ON THE WINDOW.

“SERIOUSLY GUYS!? That’s my blood!” Nexe cried incredulously, whipping his head back and forth among the flustered Pols.

Multi actually found himself breathless for a moment- something he’d seldom ever felt in his life. It was strange and alarming how much of an effect this man had over his body. He was disciplined and always kept himself in control over his baser urges- how could this stranger waltz into his life and break years worth of work so easily? 

There had to be something more going on here. That he was certain of. He just didn’t have any way to prove it yet.

I mean how many people survive the change after being knocked unconscious several times at this point?

 This guy had to at least have SOME brain damage or something that the infection could pray upon- there’s no way he was strong enough to keep resisting much longer. He’d change soon enough and then Multi would have a good reason to kill him- yeah. Everything would be fine and back to normal in no time. Nature just had to run its course- 

 The damphir tuned back into the world around him, met with Ewroon fussing over their dog. 

“...Oh calm down Nexe! You’re not dying…” Ewron tutted, rolling his eyes while assessing the damage- Multi happened to catch a glimpse of his brother's hand. 

Thankfully Nexe’s blood didn’t elicit any strange reactions- not that it ever had- I mean ew, that’s his brother- But there was a…cute…little bite mark reminiscent of a shark's bite-? Which was a bit odd. 

But perhaps the little infected’s sharp teeth were a temporary mutation as a result of the infection…? He wasn’t quite sure. But a strange feeling settled in his chest at the sight of the mark. 

An odd mixture of envy and…pride. The little man was certainly resourceful. 

“Mmm…It’s not that deep, you big cry baby. Come, I’ll bandage you up, my poor puppy…” He cooed mockingly, though it was all for show of course as the Panda gently prodded at Nexe’s wounds and carefully tugged him into their communal bathroom. After Multi had finally taken his shower- he had to rush damn it- and fixed the room as a whole- Ewron more or less turned it into a makeshift nurses office carefully sewing up and bandaging the stab wound in his stomach despite the damphirs protests that it will probably be healed before the sun event sets. 

“ Well…shit. So he’s awake and possibly bloodthirsty…? I think maybe…maybe it would be wise if we first try and assess his mental state before hardcore questioning him…?” Graf inquired, reaching out and leaning into Multi's shoulder, whispering in polish, despite the language barrier being more than enough to protect their conversation.

Ultimately Multi knew it was his brother's subtler way to try and help him focus without making a big deal of things. It’s why he loved Graf the most. 

(He loved all his brothers equally.)    

“…We test his mental capacity and get some basic information first and see how the infection is progressing in his system… and then we can make our way into the interrogation more naturally? We must try the…ugh I can’t believe I’m even suggesting this- but…the friendly approach.” Multi blanched and Graf quietly snickered but nodded along patting his back.

“I can handle most of the talking if you don't quite feel up to it…?”

“-Yes. Please.” Multi sighed, finally calm enough to remove his hand from his face. 

“...You do know you’ll have to have a normal conversation with him at some point, right…?” 

“Well I tried…! But then he stabbed me.” Multi scoffed, crossing his arms while Graf snickered to himself. 

“I mean…I can’t really say I’m too shocked given his current circumstances…you’re not the most approachable person you know. And I can’t imagine waking up in the middle of nowhere to…us and our shenanigans.  But in a weird way…oh how do I put this…I know you’ve never dated anyone before-” The Vampire gagged at the thought. He had very few options given his condition and he refused to date another vampire, Ewroon, or Nexe- which they already had enough issues between the two of them and Multi refused to touch their whole situation with a ten foot pole.  

“But… I always had a feeling if you did- you would need someone crazy to keep your attention.” Graf snickered and Multi gaped at him looking between the Pol and the infected sat quietly behind them, staring on in confusion. 

Thank god he couldn’t understand them.

He growled and grabbed another pillow and smacked Graf's smirk right off his face.

“SHUT UP-NO! He’s infected! Who would ever want to touch a corpse…!?” He scowled, giving his brother a look of disgust, but Graf just shook his head with a little chuckle and patted him on the leg, hauling himself up and shaking his head while strolling over to the bound man sitting in their temporary dining room.

He stared boredly watching them, slumped against the chair, tired and defeated. 

“Hello my friend…! So sorry to meet you like this, what with the kidnapping as a whole,then the chair, and ropes and all on top of it…but it’s just a little precautionary measure since you managed to pull that little trick on us earlier…My name is Graf. My brothers and I are hunters as I’m sure you’ve put together by now. We mean you no harm- so long as you comply with our questions and preferably- don’t bite or attack us further moving forwards-!” 

The man only narrowed his eyes.

“Ok...Our target last night was your… partner?” Multi watched the slight wince in the smaller man's frame though he ducked his head down to hide his face. Images of the coven leader touching and holding him came to mind and Multi had to pause at the new strange and tight feeling in his chest- was this… envy? Gross.

 “-Schlatt. We’re going to ask you some questions about him in a moment, but before all of that we’d like to know…how are you feeling? Are you hungry or…rather thirsty by chance?”

 The man slowly peered up at Graf through his bangs, shooting a quick glance Multi's way as well, his eyes full of distrust. Still he remained quiet and unmoving.

“I mean, you’ve certainly proven to be quite the little fighter… Almost twelve hours after being bit- yet you've shown no physical signs of changing despite your injuries? Well…aside from those sharp little teeth you’ve got...” 

The damphir watched the man pause for a few moments squinting up at Graf before looking back down for a moment. Thinking? Scheming? Surely he was up to something- He couldn’t stop surprising Multi now. 

Things were just getting interesting. 

“…No hablo inglés.” A small hoarse voice hummed from beneath the black wall of damp hair. Multi couldn’t help but snort.

“...You spoke perfect English just this morning… No - please sir don’t hurt me-!” Multi mocked in exasperation raising his voice and shifting sideways to see the shorter man shoot him a death glare before he spewed a line of curses at him in Spanish weakly tugging against his restraints jerking himself towards Multi. 

Good. He still had some fight- he just needed a little… provocation. 

Little did he know the Polish Hussars had a little linguist of their own up their sleeve.

Multi slowly grinned like the cheshire cat awaiting the man’s reaction as Graf cleared his throat.

“Cazadores estúpidos, extraños, de mierda…!” 

“Ay! No somos cazadores de mierda-! Pues… Ewroon es un poco, pero eso no viene al caso.-” / Hey! We aren't shitty hunters. Well… Ewroon is a little bit, but that's besides the point- !) 

Multi watched what little color was left drain from the man's face as he stared up at Graf in horror and couldn’t help but let out a little snicker.

“GRAF! What did you just say!? I heard you say my name!” Ewroon huffed, marching out from the bathroom. 

“Shush…!” Nexe hissed, appearing behind him flexing his freshly bandaged hand and trying to pull him back to no avail. 

“-No mames wey.” / No fucking way dude.) The man whispered. Though Multi couldn’t understand his words, his tone sounded absolutely gobsmacked.

“Si wey. Hoy es tu día de suerte. ” / Yeah bro. Today 's your lucky day.) 

“Mierda….”  Shit. Multi did know that one! 

“Cómo te llamas mi amigo-?” / What 's your name my friend-?)  

“-Mr.Hostage! Can you possibly-pretty-please speak English if you really can? So the rest of us can follow along…?” Ewroon batted his eyes moving over to stand beside Graf and blocking Multi’s view- damn attention whore.

“Speak for yourselves…Some of us are still learning…” Nexe huffed, opting to lean against the other side of the couch beside Multi.

“Gentlemen, please let me continue-" Graf sighed.

“-It’s Quackity…? Ok? Can you guys just ask whatever you’re going to and get the fuck on with it? God…” 

“Excuse me!? YOU ARE THE HOSTAGE- You listen to us!” Ewroon barked and Nexe sat up and tugged him back by the tail making the hybrid squeak and glare at the weredog. 

“Hello Quackity. Once again, I am Graf, and my brothers here are Nexe, Ewron, and well Multi- you two have already become pretty acquainted-” 

“Acquainted is certainly a word for it…” He scowled. “...Tell me Graf…What exactly did Schlatt do this time to get raided by…the strangest quartet of vampire hunters I’ve ever seen?” 

“Honestly…? Coincidence more than anything. We're actually supposed to be on a vacation, but since we happened to be here when he posted about the party on twitter, we figured it’d be our due diligence to society to take his life for the better of humanity and creature kind…! What with him disrupting the balance with the whole vampire pride thing…as I'm sure you know…?”

“And he’s also filthy rich…! Plus we never leave home without our supplies anyways- so why not!?” Ewroon chirped, making Quackity snort and shake his head. 

“Good to know you’re also just a bunch of scumbags too then.” He whispered under his breath though only he and Nexe caught it, the two sharing an amused glance. 

“Ehem… Quackity- You are well aware of the infection coursing through your body right now yes…?” 

“The infection? No doctor Graf... I’m sooooo hot and dizzy... My throat! It’s- COUGH- It’s so- COUGH- dry… Oh god I can feel the venom burning in my veins-! I'M CHANGING- I'M CHANGING! I’m becoming absolutely ravenous-bloodthirsty even-” He made a show of growling and struggling in his binds contorting and rattling around in the chair for a moment- then stopped dead in his tracks with an unimpressed look. “No shit I know about the infection. Everyone know’s if a fucking vampire bites you, you’re dead. But that doesn't really matter now does it-? I feel fine...”

“What about your hands…?” 

“My hands…? Why the fuck do you care…? They’re fine too. It’s not like they’ll really matter soon anyways you know…” He shrugged, hiding beneath his hair once more. 

“Yes… Well, believe it or not we’d really prefer you not be in total agony before you…change. For real. So please let us know if there's anything we can get you…?” 

“Awwe…Aren’t you guys just the sweetest kidnappers ever…?” He drawled in a sickly sweet voice. “Lets stop with the bullshit and get on with the interrogation already…” 

“Well… okay then…! We’ve never had a compliant captive before so this is a bit different without the torture-” Graf clearned his throat. 

“Quackity…You were found in Schlatt’s bedroom, yes?” He nodded. “and you were the only human there not only wearing a mask- but a unique one- unlike even the other party goers or Schlatts…” He murmured, pulling out the little golden mask from his pocket. “That all being said- What is your relationship to Mr.Schlatt?”  

The man let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinking about trying to ransom me…?” 

“...So you’re close enough to him that ransoming could be an option?” Graf smiled and raised a brow leaning closer while the shorter man nodded his head looking down.

“Yes…we were partners. But you might want to come up with another plan.” He nodded his head in Multi's direction though he kept his gaze downcast, “You saw first hand last night, he’s done with me.” 

Again images of the man not only being touched- but thrown around so carelessly- like a ragdoll-bleeding and left to die after being drained on the bedroom floor- the defeated look in his eyes- invaded his mind. Trigger that same protective feeling he felt for the other hussars- along with something stronger- worse- a strange primal rage- buried deep in his repressed instincts.

“Okay…so you’ve got a bit of a rocky relationship then…Exactly how long have you been working with Schlatt?” 

“...I guess… fuck… it’s been almost six or seven years now…?” All the hussars openly gaped at him in shock and the shorter man ducked his head even further- flushing a pretty pink- and glaring at them again beneath his hair. “… Shut the fuck up…! I know… he’s horrible and I’m stupid. Don’t remind me…Regardless of that- I’ve never been left for dead before, so he’s done with me and you guys can just ask me whatever other dirt you want on him and then kill me already, ‘kay?” He spoke with a quiet and tired finality, his shoulders slumped against the chair, but his eyes were defiant and met Grafs’ eyes refusing to look away. The room was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop, all the hussars were stunned by his brutal honesty. 

Ewroon and Nexe pulled the still stunned bispeckled man backwards towards the couch forming a group huddle with Multi. 

“S…Should we ask about a safe house…? I mean…surely Schlatt would have another base in New York?” Graf started to ramble trying to move past the uncomfortable atmosphere. 

The others all seemed to lock onto the topic segway, though Multi kept taking little glances at the man who unabashedly stared at them with a pinched- almost impatient expression. Something that was not lost to the hussars, unsure of how to approach this new sensitive addition to their dynamic. 

I mean it wasn’t everyday you had a hostage so readily agree to telling you what you want to hear in exchange for death of all things.

This man was an absolute enigma.

“-Yeah…! And then we make him tell us every high-profile client they’ve got nearby for blackmail money…!” Nexe smirked, nudging the still staring Multi.

“Wait…wait wait- Lets not forget he could be lying out his ass for shits and giggles or out of some weird sense of loyalty. He did try attacking me afterall. We should take everything he says with a grain of salt.”  Multi murmured, finally turning his focus back to the others. 

“True…But I mean we could still try and have him call Schlatt for a"ransom "? I highly doubt he’d actually just leave him behind if they’ve been together that long…” Ewroon hummed oddly quieter than usual, also moving slightly to sneak a few glances at the bound man.

“Why would the fuck would we actually give him back?” Nexe frowned and the panda hybrid rolled his eyes. 

“Well we wouldn’t actually give him back dumbass- we’d just have to make Schlatt believe it to get him where we want him for an attack, kill him, AND get money in the process! BOOM!”

“But what if Quackity is right and he doesn’t fall for the bait…? Wouldn’t really be out of character if he just left him to die. At least from what I’ve heard online…” Nexe murmured, chewing on his lip again. 

“Well I’m fairly confident this guy is something special- I mean he had a whole different mask than Schlatt and the other cult members. Surely that's got to mean something.” Graf interjected once again flashing the stupid little tacky mask. Still, Multi nodded along.

“His smell- and his blood- there’s something off with him that’s been messing with me…my head and my instincts…” Multi hummed and the others all shot him mutual knowing looks that didn’t seem to register in the damphirs brain. 

“Could he be a hybrid or creature of some sort…? I’ve smelled him too…he’s very…artificial. And Potent…Kinda like you Ewroon.” Nexe murmured, ignoring the other man's offended scoff and questioning about-just what he meant by that- instead turning to unabashedly stare and inspect the little man who scowled and curled in on himself. 

“Maybe…We’ll have to see? If we take him back I can run tests and see if there’s something in his DNA- If we take him back that is…” The Damphir murmured nervously, fiddling with a chunky bracelet on his wrist. The others all subtly snickered at his unusually shy and unsure behavior, sharing knowing looks before breaking the circle. 

“We’ll see what happens. But for now lets just figure something out to do with him so we can salvage some of this fucking vacation-” Ewroon hummed running a hand through his loose hair with a sigh. 

“You’re seriously still on about the fucking vacation!?” Multi sneered, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh. I’m SO sorry…Forgive me, because SOME of us actually HAVE a social life and made plans for this trip-!” 

“QUIET!” Nexe growled glaring between the two and covered his ears, backing up with a low whine. Both Multi and Ewroon at least had the decency to show a little remorse, whispering curses back and forth at each other. 

 “Hostages are so much work...It’d be easier if we could just kill him…” Nexe sighed, shaking his head and receiving a glare from Multi.

“We’re not doing that…”

“I know- I know…! But it would be easier!” The dog moaned in misery, holding his head in his hands. 

“Well, well, well… who the hell are you? Because the Multi I know would never even hesitate to kill an infected!” 

“Oh my god…I told you!… He’s been fucking with my head! ...I don’t know what's wrong with me but it’s like his- blood- scent or something- is disrupting my sense of logic with my freaky vampire instincts….!?” 

“Fucking with your head…? More like finally fucking with your dic- ” 

Multi snatched up the couch's throw pillow and started wailing on the panda.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP-!” The Panda squeaked and struggled to back up amidst the entourage of attacks clinging to Graf to try and put distance between himself and the irritated damphir flushed in frustration. 

“This… This is why none of you have partners and I can’t ever bring anyone back to the house.” Graf groaned, clapping at their stupidity. Ewroon went to say something but Graf cut him off in an instant- “Nuh-uh. You and Nexe fucking dosen’t count as an actual relationship and you know it.” 

Ewroon let out a scandalized gasp slithering around to hug the front of Graf with a pout, opening his mouth to try and argue again only to freeze in place at the man’s frustrated expression- a rarity for Graf.

The panda instantly detached and took a step back, his tail and ears drooping as he looked away with a flushed face, Nexe refused to meet anyone's eye contact as well looking annoyed and flushed taking a step away from Ewroon while Multi snickered at his brothers' expense, unbothered and sprawled out on the couch. 

“Gentlemen- We’re pushing our thirties.- Lets be fucking adults for once and pull ourselves together and not only respect our guests time- but ours too and then maybe-just maybe- we’ll possibly be able to salvage some of this vacation yet… Alright?”

“Yes Graf…” The hussars murmured in monotone unison. The Human sighed and straightened himself turning to their guest who stared at them all with wide and confused eyes having been dead silent just observing their whole strange little argument in Polish. 

Graf sighed and took a moment to compose himself before turning to their still frozen captive with a smile. 

“…Do you have Mr.Schlatt’s phone number or any way we could get in contact with him, Quackity…?”

“Uhhh…I…I guess so…It’s not the most conventional  way…but…ugh…I don’t have a phone number nor do I know his- Don’t give me shit- we swap burner phones constantly there's no point to memorizing numbers- BUT- I can message him on instagram…”

“INSTAGRAM!?” Ewroon burst out laughing while the man scowled.

“Ok... I’m not helping you idiots anymore then. Just kill me now.”

“EWROON-” Nexe growled, dragging the panda back to their room by his tail with a slew of curses and yelps from the creature, slamming their door shut, followed by various Polish curses and shouts penetrating through the door. 

Multi simply resigned himself to just close his eyes, and lay back on the couch, content to just focus on Graf and the man chatting back and forth for a bit instead of interrogating rather than the heated argument down the hall. 

. . . 

During said chat they figured out… Schlatt was likely in a shitty motel somewhere nearby because he was allegedly “Too proud to ask for help.” but he did a have a lot of blackmail on some high profile politicians and CEOs in the area that he might leverage. As Quackity claimed, embezzling funds and manipulating their clients to reclaim some manpower and numbers for the Elites was considered “fair game”.

The smaller man was also very adamant they should either try and track him down quickly or tell another branch of hunters to finish the job, before of course once again declaring they must kill him after all of this-

And the others called Multi a drama queen. 

Allegedly, the coven leader was actually a pretty shitty vampire. Lost in the hedonism of mixing blood with drugs he’d apparently become addicted to his own supply. He suffered from bouts of depression and paranoia according to Quackity. The shorter man complained offhandedly about the man never wanting to go out and do anything anymore out of fear of assasination. 

And ultimately- the most obvious information they had confirmed- Schlatt was a gruff but spineless sellout still playing by human rules- interested in gaining political power and money to protect himself and do whatever he wanted.

Something the more monstrous side of Multi unfortunately understood all too well... 

But the strangest thing deduced from this little integration- was that this little human claims to have somehow been with Schlatt even prior to his turning and even helped him through it- 

Which is almost certainly impossible- given fledglings always wake up in a frenzy and attack or kill the first living thing they find with a pulse… Something Multi again knew from experience. And yet he somehow survived without even becoming infected? And not only that- allegedly is taking the blame for helping the coven leader in establishing his career and rising to power?

Half way through their yapping- Multi pulled out his phone to start proof checking this man's bold claims and found an alarmingly accurate timeline of events…

Though the name “Quackity” was never once mentioned anywhere, an alleged “stay-at-home-wife” was vaguely spoken of or praised in past excerpts regarding the vampires conservative views and even being credited as an “inspiration” for some of his earlier work that was more pro-creature centric as opposed to the more recent and strict “vampire-pride” epidemic. His wife hadn’t been mentioned in any recent articles. 

So, Multi thought, maybe this man was there- but why..why pose as his wife? Why not another fake alias if he wanted to protect his anonymity…? 

Surely…surely there was no way he was actually having a serious relationship with a corpse- a vampire-this whole time…?  

Multi would've honestly been better off not to know. But Graf of course just had to ask.

“Just to clarrify something a bit more off the record…Your-Your partnership…it isn’t just platonic or work based… is it?” 

“Nope.” The man sighed. “Got a ring and everything…” He laughed bitterly and Multi’s heart stopped. He hesitantly peaked up from behind the couch to catch a glimpse of a chunky red ring amongst the bandages on his bloody little hands- something he’d somehow missed the night prior in the chaos.

“What…? I…I’m sorry- I-I don’t mean to pry but…It just seems impossible for this kind of relationship to work… I mean this is more off the record I suppose-more my own curiosity- but he’s a vampire…? How could you have not caught the virus in all this time? Are you a creature of some sort?”

“Nope...” He sighed, rolling his eyes with a faint smirk. 

“But didn’t you-erm- haven't you two kissed…?” Graf stumbled and flushed, Multi sat behind the couch ducked back down but also hung onto the others' breathy little giggle.

“Well…Not all vampiric fluids must carry the virus I guess…” The man hummed coly. 

Multi and Graf were both rendered completely speechless and flushed while the man openly laughed at them- a sardonic sound that jumpstarted Multi’s heart and made his head dizzy as he cursed and tried to smother himself with a pillow.

Why did he think bringing this guy back would ever be a good idea? 

The laughter slowly died down though, and the man spoke once again his voice quiet and softer than he'd herd so far- lower- honest- and sad.

“...Besides, a kiss on the cheek is just as nice as a kiss on the lips if it’s still full of love…”

The hussars were again dumbfounded and left silent by the admission unsure what to say...

But this is of course when Ewron and Nexe came back out, seemingly much calmer than before. 

The panda actually now behaving joined Graf in questioning the man- with some actually useful inputs and clarifications the infected answered without faltering. 

Nexe on the other hand was absolutely useless and decided to crush Multi on the couch, demanding “scritches” and ultimately taking a nap on him because it was all somehow Multi's fault- as always- that he didn’t get his full beauty sleep because Quackity woke him up.

Nevermind how its partially his own damned fault he, Ewroon, and Graf went on a wild goose chase because he didn’t check the fucking house properly- damn idiots. 

Things actually fell into place pretty quickly after that. 

So-much-so the infected, Ewroon, and Graf were able to brainstorm a scheme for a fake hostage video. Which was honestly a much better idea than just calling Schlatt in the moment… as they likely would’ve had one of them fuck up and reveal their plan or give up their location because they could never coordinate and preplan shit together.

But the hussars all ironed out the plan's details in the living room speaking Polish for privacy- their captive was beyond bored and tired of sitting fidgeting and complaining about them taking too long.

Ultimately it was decided that Ewron would stay with the infected while Nexe, Graf, and Multi would go out later and ambush the coven leader at their chosen location- a shitty bar Quackity recommended that he and Schlatt once frequented long ago.  

Schlatt would be a fool if he wouldn’t show up to save the clever infected.

Well If he were actually going to be there.

 But he made the mistake of leaving him behind... So now he was Multi’s theirs to keep. At least if his… strange… instincts had anything to say on the matter. 

. . . 

“Okay-Okay- So if I do this for you guys…Then you promise you’ll kill me and that you’re absolutely not going to give me back or take me there when you kill him…right?” Quackity blanched, staring between Graf who carefully maneuvered his little golden bird mask back on his head hiding way too much of his pretty face- which was being mutilated by Ewroon -who happily hummed applying a little make up with a kit he used for undercover jobs as his alter ego- ultimately making the roughed up man look ten times worse. As if he were on death's doorstep- though his heart still beat- he breathed evenly- and even still smelt like cinnamon and fresh apples- Not nearly as potent as when his blood was exposed, but still pleasant if not slightly distracting for the Damphir who nervously held a bandana for Graf to use as a fake gag. 

Multi was simply ready to record and be done with…this whole craziness. 

Ready for this man to turn and his head to make sense again.

Graf smiled and nodded along “Yes, yes we will kill you I promise…!” Multi stared at the taller man with narrowed brows handing him the bandana, he just winked and subtly flashed his crossed fingers.

“Ugh…Lets just get this over with…” Quackity sighed and closed his eyes, opening his mouth to allow Graf to tie and adjust the gag. “Tighter.” He murmured against the banda making Ewroon snicker while Multi rolled his eyes. 

Graf simply snickered and shook his head patting the bound man's beanie.

“This should be fine. He’ll get the idea. Okay…! Now just pretend you’re absolutely terrified-”

“Just tell me when you start recording- this isn’t rocket science.” The man grumbled against the fabric and rolled his eyes. Graf nodded and stepped back, dimming their surrounding lights and turning on the single above head light in the dining room.

"ready when you are Multi!" Graf smiled looking far too sweet for a kidnapper stood in front of their captive. 

“1...2...3...Go.” Multi huffed and watched the little man struggle as Graf began their stupid demands and Multi fought the urge not to cringe. 

… 

“Okay…So we’re going to untie you…but promise you will not attack!?” Ewroon carefully poked at the shorter man's chest showing off a well manicured set of black claws.

Quackity stared at him and his hand still, frozen in place. The presence of other creatures- hunters- at that- was still quite… odd. 

But it didn’t really matter because he’d be dead soon anyways. He nodded egarly.

“What would I even do…?" He murmured tilting his head at the panda in confusion.

“-You bit me!” Nexe cried “Do not act defenseless…!”

"Oh yeah..." Quackity couldn’t help the little smirk of pride he felt grow on his face from the last remark. He wouldn’t go out then without a crumb of dignity and threat then. “I’m Sorry. I won’t bite anyone again.” He drawled. “Happy?” He hummed, wiggling until the strange…cat hybrid? -He still wasn’t sure what this Ewroon guy was supposed to be-but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know either. The strange cat man carefully pulled at one of the ropes that bound him and sliced through them with relaitive ease using his sharp nails with just a few tugs.

Quackity sighed in relief slumping forwards and rubbing at his sore wrist- thankful the nasty bloody bandages had been there- otherwise he definitely would’ve had his wrists torn up from the raw rope scratching against him for so long. 

No one really made a move when the man leaned down and quickly sliced the binds at his ankles. Quackity glanced up at them all through his bangs and smiled a devious thought coming to mind.

“Boo!” He shouted, raising his arms up in an instant and cackling as the hunters all flinched, instinctively pulling away from him and readying themselves in defensive positions.

Quackity giggled so much he accidentally fell off the chair. 

“Ach- Fuck! okay- my bad…! Assholes… wont even help me up…!” He grumbled slowly pulling himself up using the chair he’d just been bound to for damn near two hours now- standing on shaky weak legs… It had been a bit since he’d eaten or drank anything. 

Still he pressed on.

“So what are you just gonna shackle me again and take me somewhere fancy or can we just go out back and get this over with?” 

“Actually-” Graf rushed over frantic- he was of course the only member aside from maybe Nexe- who was actually semi normal and qualified to handle emotions like a normal person.

“I think it’d be best if you freshened up first-” Graf the only presumed human- was the first to take a step towards him leaning down and holding out an arm to help wrap around Quakitys shoulders leading him down the hall. 

“Excuse me-?” He gaped while being more or less dragged along- subtly trying to smell himself. I mean sure. He was a bit sweaty and clearly covered in old blood- But that shit wouldn’t even matter in a second if they just killed him already!

Though a nice wash and getting out of all these nasty clothes did sound heavenly… 

He startled as the funny looking cat man took his other side and helped lead him down the hall into the bathroom he was all too familiar with now. He helped him sit on the covered toilet seat while the other man turned on the water. 

Which was concerning, as Quackity suddenly pondered if he was about to be fucking sacrified or something.

Maybe they claimed not to know about him- but maybe they did and this was all a ruse all along…? 

But just as he had the thought, Graf left the room leaving the door open. Quackity balked, staring from the open door to the man he was left with. If he got up now maybe he could-

“Don’t even think about it.” The ginger snorted. 

“Excuse me…? Sorry I’m concerned about the lack of privacy I have here…” He grumbled and the man scoffed rustling around on the bathroom vanity with various bandages and first aid supplies. 

“You think I want to be in here doing this either!? YOU started this! It was you who hid in here while I was trying to piss. Now we’re both being punished because I have to babysit your ass today and make sure you don’t try and kill yourself or do something stupid…!” He huffed turning and crossing his arms, to stare at the slightly shorter man expectantly. 

“Give me your hands- we’ll need to change the bandages after you dry, but it’ll be good to give your wounds some air and wash off the blood-” 

“It’s fine. I can get them myself.” He waved the man off, ignoring the bit about replacing them, why would they even bother with that? 

It’d be a waste of materials. 

Stepping back-there was absolutely nothing within arms reach to use to protect himself and nowhere else to hide but in the shower itself- yet again. 

“Fine. Whatever. Be difficult. Just get stripping then because we don’t have all day-! or I guess we do now…” Ewroon grumbled the last bit in Polish under his breath though Quackity couldn’t understand…he could hear the bitterness in his tone- still salty his vacation and plans were being encroached upon.

Guilt, rage, and fear pinched Quackity's chest, as his heart began to race. 

God he was such an inconvenience even when he just wanted to fucking die…

What was he supposed to do?

He couldn’t just strip. 

They couldn’t know. 

They’d keep him if they knew.

 He was so tired of being used. 

But maybe…maybe if he put up enough fight...? 

They’d see he wasn’t worth it. 

Because he really wasn’t. 

He was a tool.

He was a disease-

A man made addiction . 

A mistake.

And a failure.

Taking a shaky breath he wordlessly dropped his beanie outside of the tub and climbed in still fully dressed once more, tears rapidly welling in his eyes and starting to dribble down his cheeks.

Ewroon watched him nervously peaking out into the hall. “Ok…? Whatever floats your boat man…GRAF GET HIM SOME CLOTHES DAMN IT!” 

Quackity sniffled and ran his hands through his hair with a shaky sigh. He tried to relax and just clear his mind- he really did. 

But memories of last night just kept coming back. 

How he looked at him.

How he hated him- but still tried to hide it.

But it wasn’t just last night was it?

Memories of last week. 

Last month. 

Last year. 

How long had they been this miserable together? 

When did their love die? When did it all become so disgusting and corrupt?

Was it when he realized it was all his fault he was like this? The realization that if Quackity had neverr met him- he would've had a much better life...

He ruined everything he touched.

The man allegedly watching him was still outside in the hall chatting with someone- But Quackity couldn’t be bothered, carefully stripping himself of his wet bandages, dropping them onto the bottom of the tub admiring their rusty red stains. Carefully he moved his hands together watching the clean water removing all traces of the blood to reveal his new scarred but healed hands. 

His ring glistened in the faint lighting and Quackity clutched his hands together, feeling hot tears slip down his face, burning his eyes from the source.

He was pathetic. 

He tried to stifle his cries but an overwhelming wreck of long standing pent up emotions and exhaustion assaulted his body in an instant. 

His breathing cut itself short and his vision started to became spotty…

He slid down the wall, desperately clinging a hand to it for support- to stay grounded as he struggled to breath. He tried to keep quiet, weakly clawing at his mangled dress shirts buttons to get them open- it was too tight. 

The bandages wrapped around his neck- were strangling him. He gasped and let out a choked sob finally managing to tear his shirt off and removed his binder. 

Instantly His wings snapped open hitting the shower wall and smacking the wet curtain alerting the other man watching him- who stepped back in the room alarmed- though Quackity was too far gone to notice. 

His wing brushed up and folded against the shower wall trying to stretch- and he couldn’t stop himself from yelping in pain out at their soreness still struggling to pull at the wraps that suffocated him- The shower curtain was pulled back once more. 

Ewroon looked down at him with panicked wide eyes. Quackity stumbled back throwing himself against the wall as his vision started to fade and his body started to slump back- too heavy- his wings contorting and folding in awkward ways as he tried to create more distance- fuck.

Now they knew.

He fucked up. 

Now they had a reason to keep him. To use him. 

Quackity panted, glancing to the man then back down at the marble of the tub. He took a choked breath and pinched his eyes shut, wishing a silent prayer before he pulled his head back- and then rammed it into the edge of the tub with as much force as he could muster-

THUMP

He cried as pain exploded through his skull and his nose- but it was enough this time. 

He was still awake, he needed to do it harder.

He couldn’t just wake up this time. 

He needed to finish this.

“Ewroon-?” Graf called worriedly as steps quickly shuffled towards them. 

Quackity momentarily glanced up at the other creature's who stood frozen watching him mutilate himself in fear then to the door. 

He pulled his head back- just as the man moved-turning he slammed the bathroom door shut, locking it. 

“SORRY GRAF I TRIPPED ON THE TOILET- JUST ONE SECOND! I HAVE TO TAKE A SHIT-!” 

“EWROON- LET HIM OUT FIRST!” the kind man pleaded nocking on the door.

“NOPE! HE’S ALREADY IN THE SHOWER-! THE VENTS ON-HE’LL BE FINE! Oh Kurwa…!” The panda panicked diving down and sliding on his knees across the tile floor to catching Quackitys head before he could ram it down once more against the tub's edge.

He carefully brought his head up and sliced the remaining bandages from Quackity's throat and pulled him closer, ignoring the way Quackity gasped and fought trying to shake himself free snapping with his teeth- desperate to escape- his wings flapping and fluttering until he slowly stopped just devolving into a sobbing wreck for a moment.

Ewroon pulled him close, crouched over the edge of the tub and petted through his wet black hair as the man cried into Ewroon’s neck, the other hybrid shushed him and brought his hand to the others back and the other on his neck.

It took a few minutes- but eventually he calmed down enough to stop struggling, though tears, snot, and blood still slid down his face from the gash in his forehead all lost in the water as he clutched at his now bare neck- an unblemished neck with just the faintest trace of teeth marks that could’ve been mistaken for freckles- slowly meeting Ewron's worried teal eyes. 

“Q-Quackity…?” 

“Fuck…Fuck…I…Sorry man.” He sniffled, his voice cracking.

“No-no-no it’s fine…you’re fine…fuck…Are you ok though…?” Ewroon murmured, hesitant to let the other man go, still holding onto the back of his neck. He just choked out a bitter laugh.

“I…I’m really starting to hate this bathroom.” He sighed, lowering his head and stretching his wings out with a groan, feeling the water from above trickling through his horribly bent and misshapen feathers, the water weeding out the broken black plumes that fell from his wings and collected in the bottom of the tub alongside his bandages and shirt. 

The man made no moves to do anything, he just sat there- watching.

 Quackity hated to be stared at. Even more so with his wings out…he was so vulnerable. 

“Aren’t you gonna call the troops in…?” He sighed bitterly and watched the other man's pensive look as he glanced towards the door, before he wordlessly stood up and reached over to the toilet- flushing and making a ruckus- before racing back over and leaning into his ear and whispering oh-so-quietly...

“..You’re not natural are you?”

“...Nope.” He sighed moving his arms to cushion himself on the edge of the tub. 

The creature across from him weakly smiled, reaching out and touching his arm drawing the avian’s gaze. 

“Neither am I.” The man giggled an excited little undertone, lacing his voice- so infectious Quackity couldn’t help himself and weakly giggled along- his wings perking up- always giving him away. He squinted and stared at the man.

"What...what do you mean- are you from-?"

“Shh-shh...Maybe we should run you a bath…I think we have a lot to talk about brother…privately”  Ewroon murmured, glancing towards the door and raising a single finger to his lips. 

Quackity stared at the other man in shock. 

After a moment the man helped him lean back and scooped the excess feathers and materials from the tub himself into the little waste bin and shifted the faucet. He drew back the curtain and gave Quackity a startlingly serious look. 

“No more of…that…OK? I’m going to grab you those clothes…then we’ll talk. Behave!” He murmured, staring into Quackity's soul and slowly pulling the shower curtain back to allow some privacy to the winged man.

And for once- he didn’t have the immediate urge to fight. He just nodded wordlessly. 

The water filled around him and he finished undressing himself, trying to keep his wet clothes in a pile. Adjusting himself to laying on his stomach he allowed his sore wings to soak in the warm water relieving some of the aches from being confined for so long… Maybe he’d live a little longer… at least for today.

Wether or not this man would betray his trust, who knew. 

But he had nothing more to lose. 

However if he were being honest- then maybe...just maybe he might have a brother to confide in.

Someone to understand.